


With Nothing Left

by Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Nazi Germany, Violence, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the urge for Empire leaves nothing untouched. No matter how long a Nation's lived, it will still catch them unprepared. Gilbert thought he'd have more time, but some things cannot be prepared for and sometimes it will simply never go well. (Angst drabble)</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Nothing Left

Gilbert stayed on his hands and knees on the floor for a long time after Ludwig stepped out. He looked up only long enough to verify his brother was gone, had shut the door behind him, then dropped his head into his hands and started to cry. 

He'd really hoped he'd be there for him. He'd hoped – stupidly, it seemed. He'd raised the boy. He knew how he was. 

He'd thought he'd have longer to prepare him for this.

Finally, after his breath had stopped catching, stopped panicking in his chest, he sat up and wiped at his face, wincing as he brushed the bruises on the side of his face. He swallowed blood and glanced at his hand only to grimace at the smear left on the back of his hand.

The sound that escaped his mouth made him feel ashamed, but he didn't fight it. He let the noise grow until his chest jumped and he hiccoughed before starting to cry in earnest.

“Ludwig,” he whispered. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please.”

"Please," Gilbert had begged him. "Please listen to me," only to get told to deal with it, to come around, to just trust the party knew what it was doing. They'd started to argue. Gilbert didn't even remember what it had been this time – just that Ludwig had started shouting at him to shut up. When Gilbert hadn't, he'd hit him. 

Gilbert stared at the door, where Ludwig's face had been, between him and it after he'd slapped him. He'd snarled at him, but he'd never hit Ludwig. Not out of anger; not outside sparring.

He wouldn't hit him, no, but he'd be damned before he'd just take it. “What made you think you could hit me!?”

“You are betraying our government! Who do you think you are to tell our government how it should be run? You're supposed to be working with me! When did you decide you were justified to tell me what to do? Don't you trust me?”

“Are you even listening to a thing I say!?” Gilbert shrieked. “Goddammit Ludwig, can't you tell he's killing you?”

Apparently he'd said that one too many times. Ludwig punched him dead in the face this time, then, when he didn't go down, hit him again.

He was in shock. He must've been in shock, or maybe he still couldn't bring himself to hit his child, because he didn't once fight back. Not when Ludwig got him up against the wall. Not when he kept hitting him once he went down.

At some point, he'd stopped. Come to his senses likely, apologized briefly for losing his temper and left. Gilbert had been left to pick himself up, although obviously he hadn't gotten very far before all he could do was cry. 

He didn't have anything left, after all. 

Not Prussia.

Not Germany.

Not Ludwig.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm not sure I'll do more with this. Is deliberately vague. I don't usually think things degenerated this much, but angsty Gilbert is pretty.  
> The way I write Gilbert, he is intensely against the Nazi Government for many reasons, so he objects to the party and its policies and always has.  
> I always write Gilbert as incredibly parental towards Ludwig, even if he calls him his brother.


End file.
